No Good Deed
by MajorSam
Summary: No good deed goes unpunished.
1. Chapter 1

A/N  
This is a Dark!Fic! I'm not kidding. Please do not read if you are not ok with violence and intense whump. Early warning: Strong sexual content coming in Chapter 3 – Skip if you're not ok reading that! Thanks so much for your interest in my story, please click that pretty little "Review" button at the end and let me know what you think so far!!!

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When her eyes finally fluttered open for longer than a few seconds, Magnus sighed. She closed them again, sifting through her memory, trying to remember what happened… nothing. Blank. She'd been sitting at her desk, jotting down some notes on a recent newcomer to her Sanctuary, when Will had opened the door. She remembered him taking a step into the room, and then… nothing.

She opened her eyes again, blinking a few times to try to moisten the scratchy dryness she felt, thankful that the lights seemed to be dimmed. She'd had more than her share of bright-light migraines. She took a deep breath, and a coughing fit erupted in her dry, cottony throat.

_I must have been here a while to be so dehydrated already…_

She took inventory of the rest of her body.

Lying down; wrists, chest, and ankles bound in thick leather medical-type straps.

She gave an experimental tug at each of the restraints. No give. Attached to the table. She frowned. She was fully clothed, but not in what she remembered last wearing. In lieu of her usual skirt, boots and blouse, she was in a pair of grey pants, of a light, cotton-like material, and a matching tank top. Her feet were bare, and all of her jewelry was missing. She shifted again, and felt a distinct twinge in her upper left arm. An attempt to twist her head enough to investigate proved a failure, but she could tell by the feel that she had been injected, or shot, with some kind of syringe, or tranquilizer.

_Must have been pretty strong… I've become rather accustomed to normal sedatives. _

She opened her eyes again, fully, and twisted her stiff neck around to gauge her surroundings. Small room, no more than 10 square feet or so, bland grey walls, nothing but the table she was on, and an equally nondescript chair, a few feet away from her. She couldn't see any windows from her angle, but spotted a tiny, flashing red light up in one of the ceiling corners. Surveillance.

_Well this is something new. I've always been the one strapping things to tables._

_I don't like it…_

This wasn't anything like a police holding room… didn't look like a medical lab, despite the 'medical' restraints holding her down. No scientific equipment, nothing to indicate where she was or who had taken her. She wondered where Will was, if he was ok. Had whoever captured her got to anyone else? Her pulse quickened as she thought of Ashley being held in a similar room, tied down…

Her pondering was cut short rather quickly as a door burst open, and a man strode briskly into the room, stopping just a step away from the table she was on. He was tall, at least 6"3, and built strongly. His pants and shirt were as basic as hers, but black, as were his boots. Deep brown eyes, dark brown hair, cut quite short. She opened her mouth to start demanding explanations, but never got the chance.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Magnus, it's lovely to see you're finally up."

His voice was deep and intense, a perfect counterpart to his appearance.

"No, I'm not going to tell you where you are, or who we are. I will tell you it is 3:17pm, on Wednesday, May the 18th."

He took a step forward and unstrapped one of her wrists with one hand, using the other

to firmly hold her arm down, keeping it immobile in case she tried anything.

Her mind worked rapidly. The 18th? She last remembered the 14th…. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. After having survived two world wars, never mind all the countless others that cropped up over the last 150 or so years, her emotional control was perhaps one of her strongest 'muscles'

The man continued.

"I will not tell you my name, but assure you that I know more about you than you would be comfortable knowing. No, we are not the Cabal; stupid creatures that they are, they thought you aren't yet worthy of capturing."

She tensed her body as he finished freeing her chest brace, and made quick work of her other wrist. She prepared to throw her upper body at him, hopefully knocking him back long enough to free her own ankles. She had no chance of overpowering his grip on her arms, but she was able to throw herself up hard enough to headbutt him pretty well, before a solid elbow connected with the side of her head, and she knew no more.

She awoke again, now with a throbbing headache; besides the obvious head injury, the lights had been turned up. She had also migrated from the table, to the chair. She wasn't bound directly to it, but her wrists were now handcuffed together, and her arms had been draped over the back of the chair so she would have to pull up and over it to be free. Her ankles were cuffed together as well, but were simply in front of her, in a normal sitting position. There wasn't quite a foot of slack chain between her feet… enough that she could still hobble somewhere if need be. The Man was in front of her. There was blood on his sleeve where he'd wiped his nose. She smiled, inwardly.

"So, Dr. Magnus, do you age at all, or just really, really slowly?" He asked.  
_  
Who are these people…what do they want with me?_

"So you can never die of old age, but how about other means? Are you actually immortal, or can you be just as physically hurt as the rest of us?"

He took an experimental swing that connected with her left cheekbone. She didn't let a sound escape as her head was snapped to the right. She took a deep breath, and returned her gaze level to his face.

_Bruises from such blow should take around 2 weeks healing time.  
_  
_What have I done to anger these people? Besides the obvious theft from the__Cabal, I haven't crossed any organizations lately… have I? I help people, I don't hurt them._

"Hmm… fascinating. It seems that you do feel pain, but can you bleed?"

A small knife appeared in his hand, which he whipped out to quickly slice down her left arm. She gritted her teeth as she felt warm blood trickle down. She kept her gaze level to his face.

He switched the knife to the other hand, sheathing it at his side, and lifted his right hand up to gently touch the cut, feeling the warm redness between his fingertips.

"I hear this stuff is a pretty valuable commodity in the abnormal world," he commented flippantly. "I think I'd like some more."

She suddenly leaped up, out of the chair, ready to bring her arms around and use the chained-together limbs as a club, but with an easy kick to the groin he had her down before she fully got out.

More blows to the face; a kick to the shins and a very well placed kick to the chest knocked the breath out of her as the chair skidded back a few feet before toppling backwards. He was beside her in no time, confident that she was down for at least a few moments. She waited till he was right beside her, then swung her legs round to his feet, trying to bring him down, and succeeded. He toppled to the ground, landing awkwardly on one of his wrists. He cried out in surprise. She prepared to throw herself on him, though she didn't know what she would do after that, but he recovered with amazing speed, righting her in the chair and then somehow the small knife was out of its sheath at his belt and in her right side. She couldn't help the gasp that escaped her as heat surged out of her, and trickled down to her hip, down her leg.

_Total minimum 20 days healing time._

"What do you want?" She demanded, speaking to him for the first time. Her voice was still strong.

"Why, you DO speak! I'm glad to see old age has left your communication skills as unaffected as your beauty," he replied, snidely. This was the first indication of his feelings towards her. Up until now, he'd been plain, to the point, simply asking, or commenting, without a personal point of view. Now there was definite venom.

Magnus searched her memory, angry at herself for having no clue what she had done to make this man hate her. Maybe he'd had a relative she'd encountered? A friend? But he said "We" not "I**".** She chuckled at the thought of a vengeful family taking the trouble to learn about her, capture her, and torture her for having whisked away an aunt who could manipulate kitchen appliances with her mind. His eyes darkened.

"Think this is funny, eh?"

She hadn't realized she'd laughed out loud.

_Those blows must have been harder than I thought… I'm losing focus; my mind is wandering, slight hysteria…_

With a silent, cold fury, he hauled her out of the chair with one arm, twisting her around and throwing her into the wall. She connected with it face on, and felt her nose snap.

_Permanent deformation if not treated within 7-10 days.  
_  
With her arms bound behind her, she couldn't brace herself against the wall, and half slid, half collapsed to the floor. A boot connected with her unprepared stomach, flipping her almost fully around so that she lay on her stomach, with the now broken rib or three.

_One to two months healing time._

The same boot was instantaneously on her back, grinding her into the ground, making it still harder to breathe, as he reached down, grabbed the little length of chain between her handcuffs, and pulled her arms up as hard as he could, while pushing her harder into the floor. Pain shot through her neck and shoulder blades as he tried to push her arms too far past her head and she cried out. Spots swam through her vision, swirling with tears as her ability to breathe dwindled and vanished. Just as she was about to be embraced by the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness, he dropped her arms, and took his foot off her back. Another coughing fit wracked her body, and she cringed as red flecks, that weren't from her broken nose, speckled the floor in front of her mouth. She tried to flip herself over onto her back, but couldn't quite manipulate her broken torso to manage the feat.

He let her catch her breath for a while, but soon became bored with her struggle. Instead of flipping her over himself and taking advantage of her broken ribs, he reached down, grabbed her cut up left arm, and snapped it. She cried out loud as she felt several pieces of bone snap. The ulna bone, probably.

_Comminuted Fracture – 6 weeks healing time._

He seemed pleased with her vocal outburst. He let her arm drop down again (_pain_) before seating himself on the again upturned chair, and pausing to appraise her. After several agonizing moments, she regulated her breathing as best she could, and tried, valiantly, to turn herself over again. She succeeded. He was duly impressed.

"I think it's time… He will want His turn."

The man stood up and moved as if to walk out, then paused. He turned back to her, pondering for another moment.

"Just in case you still have ideas of escaping," he warned. He walked back to her, and with all his force brought down his boot, once more, on the top of her right foot, which was upturned form the floor, resting the heel on the ground. It twisted sickly inward, and more bones snapped. Possibly both fibula and talus.

_At least… at least… 6 weeks healing time, with… lots more months before full function returns._

He walked out of the room without another word, leaving her where she was, writhing on the floor.

She didn't know how long she was left there.

She passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

The next thing Magnus registered, upon waking, was that she was in exactly the same place she last remembered. On the floor. She was colder now. The tank top and pants were not that thick. Whatever blood had seeped out from her various wounds were now dried and crusted, adding more discomfort. There was a new Man sitting on the chair, watching her. He was taller than even the man from before, and older. He wasn't nearly as buff as the one before, but he had such a commanding presence...an interesting face… Her pain dulled mind flitted for a moment, unintentionally, to John Druitt. She clamped down those thoughts as quickly as she could. This man wasn't anything like John… no one was.

She waited for him to speak. To hurt her. To move at all, to do anything…

He didn't.

Finally, he soundlessly rose from the chair, bent down, and almost gently picked her up from the floor, maneuvering her into a relative of the Fireman's carry. He didn't touch the door, but it opened without so much as a finger flick of command on his part. She didn't get a look at who had opened it. The next several minutes passed in a haze. She hurt everywhere, throbbed. But she remained as coherent as she could. If she had any hope of escape, she had to learn her surroundings. After the first 10 or so turns, however, her tired brain couldn't quite keep up. A brief rush of adrenaline surged through her when she thought of taking advantage of her draped position to hit the Man from the front, and back, and neck, but knew that even if he fell, she'd never be able to get up from the heap on the ground.

How long had she been here now? Had she been given food and drink at all, and just didn't remember? She didn't think she had…

The only sound she could hear was the soft patter of her carrier's boots, and her own, laboured breathing. After what seemed like an age, he stopped in front of a door. This time it was opened from the inside – they went in.

Will.

Or at least, Will in an adjoining room which she could see into because the wall between was made of thick glass. She quickly appraised him – agitated, immensely worried, but outwardly unharmed. His room was smaller than the one she'd been in, but the table didn't have shackles. There was still only one chair. There was a tray on the table with what appeared to be remains of a meal.

"MAGNUS!" He cried out as soon as his brain registered that the boneless bloody heap was his mentor, boss, and friend. He started banging wildly against the glass wall, trying to make even an indent to feed his feeble optimism at escape.

She mustered up all her strength.  
"Don't tell them anything Will."

His face fell, understanding dawning on him about what might come to be in the next long while. He swallowed hard, and nodded. She felt relief. She had to protect those under her guardianship. They depended on her.

The Man carrying her looked up into the corner of the room (camera) and immediately two men entered Will's room, grabbed his arms, and sat him down in the chair. He struggled, but the burly men simply held him there, impassive.

The Man dropped her on the floor. She didn't have enough energy to cry out, only moan as tears welled up in her eyes once again. She was amazed her body had enough water left to cry. The Man gestured to the person who apparently had opened the door for them, and She (the first female Magnus had seen) knelt down beside Magnus, bringing out a syringe. Magnus tried to crawl away, but the Man held her down easily. The smooth cold metal pierced her skin delicately. She felt a brief stab of pain, then suddenly all her pain was gone. Like she'd been doused in cold water, she was suddenly wide awake, pain free, and what felt like adrenaline surged through her.

_What the hell?_


	3. Chapter 3

WARNING: Strong sexual content. Nothing graphic, but be warned, if you must, skip this chapter, I'll add an A/N at the top of next chapter to fill you in! The next chapter will get somewhat "lighter" don't worry! This is the last of the true whump. Thanks to those of you who've stuck around! There's just one longer'ish chapter after this!!!

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For a few moments she was so caught up that she didn't realize the Man had pulled the bloody cotton pants off her hips, down her legs. It took her a few more moments, in her new, confusing state, to realize the heat on her thighs was not the blood from her stab wound, which was by now dried and congealed, but the Man's hand, running slowly upwards. Her breath caught in her throat as uncontrolled panic surged through her.

_Oh God, No!_

In her drugged state, she couldn't get her eyes to focus on anything, couldn't quite control her body right… she tried to speak, but her tongue was like a sock in her mouth and no words came out. Panic continued to swell as she heard Will's voice screaming something. The Man answered something. She couldn't make out what anyone was saying, could only hear odd, swelling, disconnected noises. She wanted to hear what they were saying, damn it! She wanted to Speak! She had never felt so out of control, so powerless. She moved in what she thought was a way to avoid the Man's heated grasp on her now very upper thigh, but apparently it didn't work, because the grasp switched from slow and soft to brutal and biting. She heard odd sounds… she knew what it was, she did, her mind just couldn't place the name right now.

A zipper. Clothes being shifted around, taken off, ripped.

Then a pain more piercing, more vicious, more tearing then any she had ever felt in her life tore through her entire body, starting between her naked thighs.

Helen screamed. She screamed and didn't stop.


	4. Chapter 4

When her eyes finally fluttered open for longer than a few seconds, Magnus sighed. She closed them again, searching through her memory, trying to remember what happened… With a gasp it all flooded back, and her body started to convulse out of pure instinct. She passed out.

The next time she woke up, Will was there. She looked into his eyes for only a few seconds, confirming that he, at least, was ok, before turning away to stare at the wall as a well of emotion swelled from her chest up to her throat. The look in his eyes… Neither of them spoke.

She woke again. Her whole body thrummed, but the pain was slightly dulled. She could shift slightly without the searing pain she had become used to. Who had healed her? She was always the one that did the healing. She took care of everyone else; they did not take care of her. She could never be submitted to a normal hospital, thanks to her special physiology, but none of the family, workers, or residents of her Sanctuary had the skills to bring her back from what had happened… How had she even escaped from wherever it was she had been? Had any of the others from her Sanctuary been captured? Was everyone ok?

Several weeks later, she sat gingerly at her desk, jotting down some notes on a recent addition to her Sanctuary. She looked down at her hands – the bruises and cuts were gone now, but every once in a while they still shook. By the time she'd recovered enough to try figure out what drugs she'd been filled with, their damage had been done and was untraceable. The main casts were off both her arm and foot, but she still had braces on, and walked with care. Sitting was still difficult due to her ribs, and sleeping was worse. She fingered the scarf around her neck. It was kind of ridiculous to hide the still bruised and red handprints circling her neck underneath; everyone knew they were there… She heard a sound, and looked up as Will opened the door. He glanced at her for approval before quietly walking and sitting down at the chair across the desk from her.

"Helen," he began; his usual confidence lacking. She cut him off.

"Will, I don't know who they were, where we were, or why they did what they did, but for right now, I do not care. I would appreciate you not trying to analyze me, and get me to talk my way into full recovery."

She paused.

"I have lived through a lot of horrible things in my life. This will be yet another of the dark, haunting memories I'll have to live with for the rest of my insufferably long existence."

He was silent, absorbing her little speech. He nodded, stood, and walked to the door. He hesitated. He walked through, closing it behind him. She sighed, dropping her pen; she hadn't written any actual notes in close to an hour.

Was this all worth it? Her research, her efforts? Did the human race deserve to evolve further? She had seen so much hate, so much pain in her life… She just wanted to help people, to learn, to better herself and her people by accepting the new forms of life she discovered. But throughout all of human history those who tried to break free from the mold of the time were persecuted, hated, and hunted. Science used to be thought of as witchcraft for gods sake!

She admitted that though she'd endured more emotional trauma than most people could imagine, she'd been amazingly deft at avoiding intense physical trauma. There had been a few occasions where she'd been down for weeks at a time, but usually because of some accident in the lab, an abnormal out of control, a drunk driver… Never before had she been the victim of such reckless passion and hate as she had with…whoever it was He had been. He'd never even asked a single question. She wished He had. Had He done it all for just the thrill of it? Why her? Was He one of those sick minded people who had no reason for what they did? Maybe she was so fixated with abnormals because she had lost hope in ever trying to understand her own kind. She hated her weakness at the self pity she felt. She knew countless women suffered sexual assault every day, but… the physical pain didn't hurt her as much as her total loss of control had. She'd panicked – she'd given in to the pain, to whatever drugs they'd given her, and she had just lost it.

She didn't trust herself anymore.

If she couldn't trust herself to maintain her position as leader and protector, how could she ever ask anyone else to? She swore to herself she'd never let anyone get too close, but she knew she'd failed. How could she ask Henry, the big guy, Will… Ashley… to follow her if her own faith was broken? She'd done unforgivable things before, but if something happened to any of them because of her, she doesn't think she'd survive. She took a deep breath.

_Time can heal all wounds _she thought bitterly. _I certainly have enough time._

She looked up as she heard the door being opened again. A tentative blonde head peeked around the corner. Ashley approached her nervously.

_Did Will talk to her? Did he tell her to come? No, stop… you're being paranoid. I just can't handle any more pity, any more worry._

"Mom… I just…I just wanted to say I'm proud of you."

Helen frowned.

"I know you've told me only a fraction of the crap you've been through in your life, but I can only hope that this has been one of the worst. And you made it through."

Helen had to clasp her hands together to stop them from shaking.

Had she made it through?

She looked up at Ashley, and could see her daughter's eyes were glistening.

"You're the strongest, most kind-hearted person I've ever known, and I'm not just saying that cause I'm biased. You didn't deserve any of what happened to you, but… you made it through, and I just wanted to say that I'm really glad you're Ok."

Tears were falling down the young woman's cheeks now.

"I… I really don't know what I would have done if you hadn't made it."

She stopped speaking. She looked like maybe she wanted to say more, but didn't. She just nodded, hoping her message had got through, and walked out.

Helen made sure the door had fully closed before letting a small sob escape.

_Ashley…_

Maybe there was something worth living for after all.

Fin

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Well.... that, as they say, is that!!! I hope you liked it.

Thank you SO much to all my wonderful reviewers, and for those who stuck through this whole thing :D You guys rock!!!

Also, a huge shout out to my brilliant beta Mandy!!!! Thanks for all the input, the second pair of eyes, and the publicity ;)

MSam


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